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There was the familiar beep.
“Hey Mom, its Amos. I was able to take my last final exam a day early so I’m on my way home now. See you soon!”
I glanced down to end the call on my iPhone and returned my eyes to the road ahead. With barely an hour left on my drive home from college, I suspected that she may not even realize that I left her a voicemail before she sees me come through the door. No big deal though, she loves surprises and I’m sure she will be happy to see me.
I turned the radio up as a favorite song from the band The Killers came on, entitled “Jenny Was a Friend of Mine”. Immediately I thought of my best friend, who coincidently is named Jenny. We have been close since elementary school, when she and her mom moved into a house on my street. We have always had a lot in common in our family life — being the only child raised by a single mom and never knowing our fathers. Neither of our mothers ever remarried. We haven’t seen each other in months for the first time though, now going to different colleges hundreds of miles apart. I stayed in New York to pursue a degree in graphic design, while she traveled south to Florida with the intention of becoming a pharmacist. From our last conversation over the phone, it sounded like she was eager to see me too. With our first semester of college over, we would have two weeks to catch up over Christmas break.
Less than an hour later, I pulled onto my street and decided to park just far enough away from the house so that Mom didn’t hear my car in the driveway. She had not returned my call, so it was likely that she didn’t know I was on my way. I carefully crept in through garage and quietly cracked open the door leading into the kitchen. I heard my mother laughing in response to what sounded like another woman’s voice.
She must have company over, I thought. Then her voice changed, in a way I had never heard before. She was squealing, and then there was a yelp followed by more giggling. Perplexed and somewhat alarmed, I opened the door wider staying silent.
I was frozen with what I saw. There was my mom, lying on the kitchen counter, naked. And even more surprising, was the fact that another naked woman was face down between her legs. Also on the escort ataşehir counter were a bottle of chocolate syrup, whip cream, and a mess of sprinkles. These were all things that I would put on my favorite childhood dessert, an ice cream sundae, which my mom would make for me almost upon request.
Right now, my mom was an ice cream sundae. And that woman was eating her for dessert. Smeared with chocolate and whip cream, my mom’s legs were involuntarily kicking up in the air, as the woman seemed to be ramming her tongue into Mom’s vagina.
“Oh God! Oh yyyesss!” my mother’s voice cried out.” Keep doing that! Lick me baby, lick my pussy inside and out!”
I couldn’t even process what I was seeing. The erotic scene belonged in a porn video, not my kitchen. Does this mean my mom is a lesbian? I thought it was possible that she had boyfriends, ones that I didn’t know about, but never thought she was into girls.
I couldn’t see much of the other woman, but I could tell that she was hot. She had a nice, slender body and long brown hair that kept her face hidden from me. Her round ass was in full view though, sticking up in the air. With one leg on the floor, the other was propped up on the counter, giving her leverage to dive between Mom’s thighs. The mysterious woman was also fingering herself furiously while she orally pleasured my mother.
In a state of disbelief, I left. Maybe I was in shock, because I don’t remember shutting the door or how quiet I was. The confusion continued when I reached my car and could not find my keys. I frantically checked every pocked and all over the ground. With my face against the passenger side window, I looked on the seats, and didn’t see the keys in the ignition.
Oh God, they must be back in the house!
Without knowing what else to do, I ran down the street to Jenny’s. I was still out of breath when she opened her front door, and her face lit up when she saw me.
“Amos!” she cheered as she wrapped me in a hug. She was a petite brunette girl, who always hugged me the same way, with her arms on my shoulders lifting her feet off the ground. I forgot how much I missed that. For a moment I forgot why I rushed here so fast.
“Hey Jenny, are kadıköy escort bayan you surprised?” I smiled back at her, placing her back on the ground . “Yeah, your mom said you weren’t coming in until at least tomorrow. I’m glad you’re here now though. Come on in.”
Over the next half hour we caught up about how things went with our final exams, what our plans were for celebrating Christmas, and what fun things we should do this week together. Jenny told me how had briefly dated a guy at school in Florida, but I was relieved to discover that he ended up being a douche, and she threw him to the wind. I always had feelings for this girl, but never acted upon them. We were such good friends, and I didn’t want to ruin that. And just when I thought I wanted to risk it to see where else we could go, she seemed to have a new boyfriend pop up. I was never good with timing.
The sound of her front door interrupted our conversation. Olivia, Jenny’s mother walked into the living room, wearing black yoga pants and a tank top underneath her winter coat.
“Hi Amos!” she greeted. “You know, I was just at your house. Your mom and I do yoga together.” There was something about the way she stressed the words “do yoga.”
I didn’t say anything yet as the realization came to me. It was her, the woman in the kitchen with her head in between my mother’s thighs, literally licking her like an ice cream sundae in a mess of toppings.
I think Jenny’s mom was smirking as she watched the realization register on my face.
“Hi Olivia,” I replied absently, working through the impossible conclusion my mind had made.
“Oh, you know what, I think you dropped these outside.” She pulled out my keys from her coat pocket and held them out to me.
“Thanks,” was all I could mutter.
“So you made it home a day early?” she asked, still warmth in her voice.
What made this new revelation even more bizarre was that Jenny’s mom, Olivia, is someone who I know very well, like family. She is my mom’s best friend and has been for ten years. I guess more than friends. And they do a lot more than yoga.
“Yeah, I thought I would surprise my mom. Which reminds me, I better go see her.”
I told Jenny escort bostancı and her mother that I would see them soon, and they offered to host dinner one night this week, which I agreed would be nice.
I walked up to the front door of my house this time, and made as much noise as possible jingling my keys before opening the door. I didn’t want to take any chances on catching Mom off guard. I imagined seeing her nude again, covered in whip cream and covered in a confetti of multi-colored sprinkles, screaming in horror as I walked through the doorway. After pausing to take a deep breath, I pushed open the door.
What I saw surprised me again. Instead of a kitchen littered like there had been a food fight, the house looked immaculate. Perfectly clean counters, spotless floors, and no food to be found anywhere. Had I imagined what I saw? As I inspected the kitchen up close, I heard footsteps coming down the steps behind me and turned to see my mother wrapped in her towel with her hair wet from the shower.
“Hey Amos, welcome home!” she smiled, greeting me with a hug. Her double F size breasts were bulging out over the towel, and I could feel the water on her skin soaking through my cotton t-shirt. I know her cup size from helping with laundry when I live at home.
“I just got your voicemail,” she said, struggling to keep her towel closed around her. “It’s a nice surprise to have you home early!”
“Yeah, I hope I didn’t catch you off guard,” I said, trying not to imagine my mother without the towel.
My response seemed to make her smile in an awkward way.
“No hun, you’re always welcome home.”
That night I couldn’t sleep. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Olivia and Mom on the counter. There were so many questions swirling though my mind: What does this mean? Were they in a relationship, or was it something they did when they felt lonely? Have they been intimately involved since I was a child? How long exactly has this been going on?
I don’t think I’ll ever know the answers, because I don’t plan on asking her.
After what must have been hours of tossing and turning, the only conclusion I found is that despite it being my own mother, I was turned on. The more I thought about what I saw in the kitchen, the harder my erection got.
Checking the clock on my cell phone, I couldn’t believe that it was 3:26 am, and I still couldn’t sleep. I sighed, glancing at the tissue box on the table next to my bed. Maybe it will help me sleep…
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